


Afterparty

by imogene_lovelace



Series: Fitting In [3]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Closet Sex, Developing Relationship, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29102970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imogene_lovelace/pseuds/imogene_lovelace
Summary: After the end ofTop Gun.
Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Series: Fitting In [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135325
Kudos: 2





	Afterparty

"You can be my wingman any time." 

"Bullshit - you can be mine." 

Ice played those words in his head over and over, varying his recollection of Maverick's tone, the look on his face, to make it seem like a more obvious come-on. It seemed pretty damn close, though, even so - certainly the most he'd gotten out of Maverick since Goose had died. Ice had tried to be sympathetic, he really had, but Maverick had just ignored him. It hurt that he hadn't let Ice be there for him, but there were way too many demons running around in his mind for Ice to find any room. Now, seeing that cocky look in Maverick's eyes again, he was elated for more reasons than just the hope of getting some in the near future. 

The booze was flowing freely and Maverick was in the center of the crowd, laughing and drinking and looking like he was king of the world and sexy as hell. For once, Ice didn't care about his own crowd of admirers - he kept trying to catch Maverick's eye. When he did, all that crap about smoldering glances across crowded rooms suddenly made sense to him. Ice tilted his head, almost imperceptibly, towards the door, and when he moved, Maverick followed. 

Aircraft carriers were not designed with the needs of a pair of recently reconciled and desperately horny fighter pilots in mind. After a fruitless search for a room not currently or soon likely to be occupied, Ice pulled Maverick through a nearby door which they weren't technically authorized to be using, but at least it locked on the inside. 

Maverick tasted just like Ice remembered, but with a hint of the beer he'd been drinking. His tongue explored Ice's mouth without hesitation, like the past weeks when they'd barely spoken didn't matter and their bodies pressing together had just shattered an invisible barrier. Ice broke away and unfastened Maverick's belt while whispering in his ear. 

"I want to take you to a fancy hotel with a king-size bed and fuck you all night long. But since we're in the middle of the fucking ocean, I'm going to have to settle for blowing you in the officer's john." 

"Don't think I'll forget the promise," said Maverick, grinning. Ice intended to see to it that he didn't.


End file.
